


Behind My Face and Above My Throat

by tooweirdtolove



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Caring Even, Flashbacks, Love, M/M, Nightmare, Panic Attack, Panic Attacks, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10107524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooweirdtolove/pseuds/tooweirdtolove
Summary: And so, here he is now, walking along the streets of the city, red beanie on his head and a backpack swung lazily over his shoulders. Here Isak is, trying to ignore all the crazy shit that happens in his life.It never works.





	

It goes like this. 

Sometimes Isak feels as though he is not wanted. Sure, it may be cliché, but very often he feels like a plastic bag drifting through the wind. He thinks that no one will love him and he is incapable of loving someone back. Isak doesn’t deserve love. He never did. All Isak did was fuck things up. He fucked up with his dad. He fucked up with Jonas and Eva. He fucked up Sonja and Even. Isak wishes that he could just stop fucking up. 

And so, here he is now, walking along the streets of the city, red beanie on his head and a backpack swung lazily over his shoulders. Here Isak is, trying to ignore all the crazy shit that happens in his life.  
It never works.

He wishes that he could let things go. Say goodbye, wave and never look back. But Isak can’t. He will grab onto those memories and feelings like they’re the strings connecting him to life, and if he lets go, everything will churn into a dramatic crescendo. Then the strings will whirlwind into a tornado and wipe Isak out. 

And yeah, obviously, this would not happen literally, but Isak can feel his hands slipping from the strings every day.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Isak! Run!” Mamma was staring at him, her fingertips burning a wound in his shoulder. He couldn’t breathe.

“You must go, my son. They’ve come to take you. Sinners! You have sinned my son, go!” 

Mamma shoved him out of the way and backed into the kitchen corner. She whipped around and with one arm and shoved the clutter off of the counter and onto the tile floor with a sickening crash. Mamma turns around holding a kitchen knife, a frantic, cloudy look in her eyes. 

“Mamma! What are you doing? There is no one here, there is no one here!” Isak screams at her, trying to get her to listen. She won’t. Mamma grabs Isak’s forearm and squeezes it. Her grip is tight, tight enough to leave bruises. 

“There is no hope for us all. They are here to take. My son, how have you sinned?”

Isak wrenched his arm away from her grasp. He stood, breath labored. What does she mean?  
Sinner? 

Isak crashes down and his knees give out. He falls down, down, down, into a spinning silence.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Isak jerks awake. His mind is racing and his body is too slow to catch up. He can’t breathe. All the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs and he has been left with nothing. His chest heaves as he attempts to sit up on his bed. His legs are tangled up in the sheets and his hair is matted onto his head and his skin is coated in a layer of sweat. 

Isak glances over to his door, slightly ajar. Good. It wasn’t a dream. Isak runs a hand through his tangles hair-his fingers get caught halfway through. Pulling the sheets off of his thighs, he swings one foot over the side of the bed so he can feel as if her is stable. He is not. 

Sinner.

Isak can’t breathe. He falls to the ground, just like in his nightmare, and pulls his knees to his chest in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t work. Dread washes over him and he is suffocating. His chest aches, the beat of his heart blocking out all other noise, except his mind. 

His mouth is dry and he can’t see a meter in front of him. The room looks like it is tilting over to one side. Isak hurriedly closes his eyes, not wanting to look at it any longer. He wants to go back to sleep, but he can’t. 

Isak blindly gropes for his phone, almost dropping it with a thud on the floor. The bright screen illuminates his tired eyes and tight lips. Isak calls the first person he thinks of.

Even.

Isak waits painfully for Even to pick up. He counts one, two, three rings before he hears the crackle of the microphone.

“Halla? Isak?” Even sounds tired through the phone. Isak is shaking. He holds a hand in front of his face and sees it trembling. He quickly drops his hand his knee. 

“I-I can’t b-breathe, Evi. I-I can’t,” Isak tries to sound normal but he can’t, oh god he feels like he’s dying, he wants Even to come and hold him. 

“Baby, baby where are you? Are you in your room? I’m coming, I’m coming!” Even was worried about his Isak. Isak could hear Even run around his house looking for his shoes. He heard Even close the door and lock it. 

“I’m s-sorry Even. I didn’t mean to wake you-you don’t h-have to come,” Isak wiped his face, his hand damp with tears.

“Baby, don’t be sorry, it’s okay. Just breath, Isak.” Isak tried breathing, but his chest got caught in his throat. He started crying, furiously wiping at his eyes. Isak knew that Even would be here quickly, and he couldn’t help but think that Even was mad at him. Mad that ISak called him in the middle of the night. Mad that Isak can’t keep himself under control after a fucking dream.

Isak barely notices the turn of the doorknob and the sound of steps into his room. He doesn’t acknowledge Even until his arms are wrapped around Isak’s torso and his head is laying in the crook of Even’s neck.

“Breathe, baby. In and out.” Isak attempted that method, and he felt his heart become normal again.

“Good, Isak. Just like that. Match your breathing to mine, okay?”

Even breathed in Isak’s scent, his mouth grazing Isak’s crown. His Isak was not okay. 

“Isak, remember when we had cheese toasties?” Even chuckled to himself and looked at Isak. He had a hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes were still teary and he was still shaking. Even pulls him closer in his arms, the soft fabric of his sweatshirt warming Isak.

“Yeah, y-you were really set on being a chef,” Isak whispered.

“That’s right. You know what else?” Even caressed Isak’s chin as the boy looked up at him, his breathing become steady. 

“What?” Isak whispered, curious. Even raised his eyebrows, a little smirk playing his lips. 

“I was also very set on you.” Isak smiled and hid his face in Even’s shirt. Even laughed, a full sound that could reach the corners of the earth and fill up the hollowest place with joy. Even leaned forward to kiss Isak’s forehead.

“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” Isak exclaimed, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Mmm, yeah, I guess. It’s all because I have you, Issy.” Isak scowled at Even, a silent message for him to not call Isak that. (He secretly loved all the nicknames Even gave him.) Isak grew more fatigued, his panic attack draining the energy out of him. He didn’t have the motivation to even answer Even. Isak slumped forward onto Even’s chest, long legs askew on the floor.  
I  
t was not long until Isak fell into a dreamless sleep. He was long overdue for a good night’s rest, and especially tonight. Even sighed, picking up the lanky teen and carrying him to bed. He realized that Isak was lighter than he originally thought. Even ignored that fact and pulled the sheets up over him and Isak. Isak subconsciously turned over to face Even, his breathing steady and slow, facial expression vacant of but one thing: peacefulness.

 

It goes like this:  
Even and Isak are not perfect. There are bad days, and there are good days. Sometimes Even feels too full or too hollow. Other times Isak feels too big and too much for others. Both of them have questions, and they don’t have all the answers.  
That’s okay, because even though there might be bad and good days, they are days that they have with each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thank you so much for reading this- this took a bit longer than my first fanfic. Please leave kudos and comment1 IF you have any recommendations, I will happily oblige if I think it sounds like something I could write.  
> xx  
> em


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